Aria
by lauren6498
Summary: Beacon Hills had never been the most normal place. There were werewolves, were-coyotes, were-jaguars, wendigos, banshees, kitsunes, phoenixes, and so much more. But they thought they knew one thing, gods and goddesses weren't real. Until they met Aria. Who is this girl with the stars in her eyes?
1. Prologue

Prologue

_1572-Ireland_

The sky rumbled above the small Irish town as dark storm clouds suddenly covered the bright blue sky. Farmers and townspeople all rushed inside their small shanties, desperately trying to escape the quickly approaching rainfall. Doors and shutters slammed shut and were barred with broomsticks.

If anyone had been outside they would have seen the young woman fall from the sky and land on a stack of hay, rolling from the top to the bottom and splashing into the muddy earth.

Not even seconds later the same young woman was on her feet, and was now better seen. Even covered in mud this girl was beautiful. Long silver hair in an intricate plait, only a few strands escaping; not a blemish on her smooth, tan skin; lean and muscular frame, yet still fragile and womanly; a small splash of freckles across her nose, blending perfectly with her tan; and the eyes, a mixture of violet and deep blue, and seemingly holding the entire universe, giving the young woman an enchanting look. There was more about this girl than what was on the surface. Perfect balance, soundless footsteps, hearing that outmatched wolves, and a strength that no mortal man could beat. The young woman was known to many by Arianrhod.

She glanced around at her surroundings, panic settling in those captivating eyes. Spinning around to take in her surroundings, Arianrhod let fear mar her features for the first time in 500 years.

"_Cad atá déanta agat dom?!_" she cried at the sky. _What have you done to me?!_

"_Chun comhrá le Balor, gearrtar táille ort leis seo le tréas. Mar do phionós, tá tú ag siúl i measc mortals dtí go bhfuil tú fhuascail tú féin fiú ag siúl i measc gods,_" a new voice boomed down. _For conversing with Balor, you are hereby charged with treason. As your punishment, you are to walk amongst mortals until you have redeemed yourself worthy of walking amongst gods. _

"_Dagda! Éileamh mé cruinniú den chomhairle!_" Arianrhod yelled back. _Dagda! I demand a meeting of the council! _

"_Tá an chomhairle le chéile cheana féin. Tá do cinniúint séalaithe. Nuair a bheidh tú cruthaithe féin dúinn, ansin is féidir leat filleadh ar Annwan. Go dtí sin, is féidir Bran agus Sucellos ag breathnú thar tú, Arianrhod, bandia na gealaí,_" Dagda told Arianrhod. _The council has already met. Your fate is sealed. When you have proven yourself to us, then you may return to Annwan. Until then, may Bran and Sucellos watch over you, Arianrhod, Goddess of the Moon._

**So this is the prologue, and I know there's no Teen Wolf in it yet, but next chapter is when it all starts. The language I used was Irish, which is a Celtic Language. Dagda is the Celtic Ruler God, Bran is the Celtic God of Protection, Sucellos is the Celtic God of Good Fortune, and Arianrhod is the Celtic Goddess of the Moon. Annwan is a Celtic Legendary Place that I decided to make the land of the gods for this story. Please review, favorite, follow. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed. -L**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Present Day-Beacon Hills_

I steered my speeding mountain bike out of the way of a tree root as I flew off a hill and sailed through the air. I landed on the other side and laughed as adrenaline flooded through my body.

Biking through hiking trails was something I did a lot in my free time, and in Beacon Hills, my most recent stop in this world, they had a lot of woods and places to bike.

About a mile later I saw a stream start to come into vision. What was perfect about that was a large ramp-like fallen tree that jutted out just over the edge of the water. I steered over that and a grin graced my face as I flew off the tree and felt like I was flying. I landed on the other side and skidded a little before I regained control of the bike, and continued speeding through the trees.

I saw the figure too late. A person ran in front of my bike and I crashed into them and we both went flying down the hill to the right of me. I saw a blonde head and a neon tennis shoe before I hit my head on a rock and blacked out.

When I woke up my head was hurting and there was a sharp pain in my side, but it was bearable and I pushed it to the back of my mind as I saw the other person lying a few feet away, motionless.

I stood up slowly, using the tree next to me to pull myself up, and walked over to the guy. I turned him onto his back as I knelt next to him and saw a gash on his forehead. He couldn't have been more than 16 or 17 and started to wake up when I moved him.

"_An bhfuil tú ceart go leor?_" I asked when his eyes opened. _Are you okay?_ Bright blue eyes looking up at me, confused. Well, they were blue until they flashed to yellow and he squeezed them shut again.

I almost jerked back in surprise at this, before I placed my hand on his cheek and closed my eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows at the energy flow, as I had encountered it before, but not for a few years. He was a werewolf. Oh, right, English.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"My foot," he mumbled, and I looked down his leg. I winced as I saw it, the ankle completely snapped, a bone poking through the skin, little bone fragments just large enough to be a problem scattered in the wound.

"What's your name?" I inquired, trying to draw his attention from the pain as I took a belt out of my bag and wrapped it around his leg right below his knee.

"Liam," he gasped. "What are you doing?"

"I'm tying a makeshift tourniquet. We have to get you medical attention, or else your body can't heal itself because of the open wound," I explained. I pulled a towel out of my bag as well and carefully lifted up his leg, placing it under his foot. As I did, he groaned in pain and I sympathized with him. I had gone through something similar a few years back, but the difference was, I had to fix it myself 500 miles away from the closest person.

I wrapped it around his foot gently and tied it a few inches above the break. After that I crawled back up to where his head was, noticing the gash was healing better.

"Do you know where I can take you?" I asked him. He nodded. "Beacon Hills Veterinarian Clinic." A vet, how ironic.

"Okay, my car is about a mile back. We're going to have to try and get you there quickly," I told him. I helped him sit up and supported his weight as he stood on one foot.

It took 30 minutes for us to get back to my car, him having to jump along on one foot while I half-carried him. I helped him get into the backseat and lay his leg across it, after I moved all of my stuff.

It took another 10 minutes to get to the vet's. I made sure that Liam stayed awake and talking. I learned that he was only 15, and a freshman at Beacon Hills High School. He was on the lacrosse team and on a training run today, by himself of course.

I helped him out of the car and we limped into the clinic, the bell ringing as we walked in, ignoring the 'closed' sign. Two people walked out, a dark skinned man in a lab coat and a man that looked to be about 23 or 24 in a leather jacket.

Immediately the man in the leather jacket came over and put Liam's other arm around his shoulder, supporting that half of him and taking most of it off of me.

"What happened?" the dark skinned man asked.

"Mountain bike accident. Do you have a place where I can fix him up?" I answered and he nodded, gesturing to the back.

"I am a doctor. I am more than capable of healing him," he added as we laid him on the table.

"I do not doubt that, but I have encountered this twice before, once on another person and once on myself. I know exactly what is needed, while you might have to take time to figure that out," I replied. I took the towel off his foot and the man in the leather jacket leaned over to glance at it.

"That's bad. But why didn't you take him to a hospital?" he quizzed me. I knew that he was a werewolf once our hands brushed.

"Because he's a werewolf," I said. "I need a sedative." I went over to the sink, taking off my blood-stained jacket and washing my hands up to my elbows. After that I pulled on rubber gloves and then took the syringe from the man in the lab coat.

"Okay, Liam, I'm going to give you a sedative. You'll be out for a few hours," I told him. Within minutes he was out like a light and the doctor joined me in fixing the wound.

Two hours later we were done and I could already tell that the young werewolf's body was healing. During that time I found out the doctor's name was Deaton and leather jacket was Derek. Deaton was an emissary, while Derek was a werewolf. Both were surprised to know how much I knew about supernatural creatures. But when you'd been on the earth as long as I had, you eventually learn a lot.

Deaton was wrapping Liam's ankle in gauze when I turned away and peeled off my rubber gloves, tossing them into the trashcan. I grabbed my jacket and turned to leave when Deaton spoke.

"Now let's take a look at you," he murmured, and Derek looked over at me from where he was standing in the corner. I froze in the middle of pulling on my jacket.

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

"You have an injury on your forehead, and another on your abdomen, judging by the bloodstain," Deaton told me. I had forgotten completely about my injuries, but I didn't want either of them to see the scars and tattoos that littered my body.

"I'm fine. My forehead just needs to be cleaned, and the bloodstain is from Liam," I lied. Now that I had been reminded of the injuries, the pain was returning.

"The jacket would have blocked any blood of Liam's. You're injured, and I'm wondering why you don't want help," Derek pointed out. I sighed and starting pulling my jacket off. I didn't have to stay in Beacon Hills. I could not go through with buying a flat and leave within the next hour. "Fine."

I sat on a smaller, second table, watching while Deaton got simple first aid supplies from the cabinets. He had a lot of things for humans, and it made me think that Derek was part of a pack that Deaton was an emissary to, or something along those lines.

The cut on my head was from hitting the rock at the bottom of the hill. It was worse than I thought, and Deaton ended up putting 5 stitches in. I guess with all of the pain I had endured, it seemed like nothing. That's when we moved on to my stomach.

"Take off your shirt and lie down please," Deaton told me and I hesitated slightly. Usually I didn't care what others thought of me, but this time was different and I didn't know why. When I noticed Derek's curious gaze from his position leaning against the wall, I took off my shirt and laid down quickly, shutting my eyes in an effort to make it all go away.

I heard a sharp intake of breath and footsteps, and I knew what caused it. I knew what they saw. Scars from cuts, burns, lacerations, everything you could imagine criss-crossed my abdomen and ribs. A five-fold Celtic pattern, a double spiral, a Celtic moon, a Celtic protection symbol, and the Celtic symbol of strength were all tattooed on my upper body. The five-fold was on my shoulder, the Celtic moon around my navel, the protection symbol was located just above my left breast, the double spiral was on my hip bone, and the symbol of strength was just below my collarbone on my right side. The tattoos mixed with scars was a startling sight for anybody.

"What happened to you?" Derek asked while Deaton stayed silent and started sterilizing the wound a branch made. I thought about what had happened: 500 years of learning how to be a mortal; almost as long having to act like a submissive woman, never raising my voice at a man or stepping out of line; getting caught by the wrong people at the wrong times; helping people; and so much more.

"Which time?" I queried and Derek finally looked up from my stomach and to my face. "Any of them."

"Well, there were slave traders one year, then another I made a king mad and I was thrown in his prison, I helped a pack of werewolves escape a family of hunters and in turn got captured by that family, a few times making men at bars or restaurants angry, and the list goes on," I explained.

"That seems like a lot for a 20 year old girl," Derek said after a while of processing what I had just told him. Not a lot for a 500 year old mortal, 3,000 year old girl, though.

"Yes, a lot has happened," I muttered. We lapsed into silence as I stared at the ceiling, counting the dots on the tiles to pass time.

"There, done," Deaton announced as he finished sewing up the wound. I hadn't even felt it really, more engrossed in counting dots that stitches. When I looked, though, I saw a metal tray with bits of bark and wood in it, debris from the branch that caused the wound.

"Excellent." I grabbed my shirt from next to me and pulled it over my head, standing up and swaying slightly. Damn my mortal punishment. Derek caught my shoulder so that I wouldn't stumble into anything and looked at me with an almost concerned look.

"Your body needs time to heal. I think it would be best if Derek here took you home. Where do you live?" Deaton asked.

"I haven't been able to buy a flat yet," I admitted. "But I'll be fine just sleeping in the back of my car." Derek seemed okay with that, seeing as he let go of my shoulder.

"No, Derek will take you to his place," Deaton told me.

"No, really, I'll be fine. Worse things have happened to me," I assured him.

"It's okay. You can stay with me," Derek said. I thought about it. A hot shower and warm bed after three days of sleeping in a car did sound nice, even if it put my leaving a day behind.

"Okay," I surrendered. Deaton smiled when Derek turned away, almost a mischievous smile as if he had a plan. What was that about?

"Tell Liam I hope he's all healed when he wakes up," I told Deaton, who nodded, before grabbing my jacket and following Derek, who had picked up my bag, out the door.

**Does anybody know who she is? I know. Hope you liked. Favorite, follow, review! xoxo -L**


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